


Phosphenes

by pseudoziam



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Colors, Cute, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Rick and Morty - Freeform, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 00:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudoziam/pseuds/pseudoziam
Summary: Morty picks Rick up after he breaks out of jail, three years late.





	Phosphenes

_“Phosphenes, MoURGHrty, they’re the electrical charges that are p-pr-produc- caused when your retinas are at rest o-o-or are being pushed on. See? Y-Y-Y-Yo-You don’t need school to teach you that, ol’ Grandpa Rick’ll teach you everything.”_   

Morty kept it with him; when the Galactic Federation changed the policies around earth to fit every species except the ones already on earth, when he told his parents he was dropping out of high school, halfway into the first year without Rick. Like a security blanket, he held onto that memory as if it was a key to some secret society that could bring his Rick back, back to where they were able to walk freely without fear of being watched by some aliens that needed yet another one of Rick’s secrets.  

Now he was watching the different colors pass by as the ship moved through the galaxy, light reds and deep blues, leftover from the supernovas that scattered the stars and gave birth to hundreds more. The sounds of breathing were surrounding him, keeping him awake while autopilot was engaged, the green icon blinking in metronome and lighting up the otherwise dark interior of the ship. He dragged a hand through his curls and tugged at the ends - he would need to cut his hair again soon, the length making it too easy for pursuers to grab onto. Pressing his forehead to the cool glass, he breathed out slowly, watching the way the fog distorted the cosmos, thinking about how easily he could cup his hands and catch the stardust like sand from the beaches of his home planet. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and blinked away the nebula that formed behind his eyelids, an imprint of the universe that hid under his skin.  

_“Why would they need to teach us that?”_  

The breathing at the front of the ship picked up, a sheet was being pushed aside until it landed in a heap on the floor of the ship. A warm body soon stood next to him, pressing against his side almost shoulder to shoulder. There were no words, just the steady rise and fall of a chest that began to keep time with his own. He was older now, nearly a legal adult, and these small things shouldn’t make his heart clench like they did when he was fourteen. He had changed, like many things do in the course of three years, however it all seemed irrelevant when he was near Rick; like he was a freshman in high school again and had no experience outside of the few times he was pulled onto a spaceship, given no instruction as to how to conduct himself. Things change after seeing his corpse buried and later dug up by greedy aliens, after seeing whole civilizations destroyed by cunning slips of vicious bacteria, or watching the only person you’ve ever felt something for leave,and knowing they wouldn’t be back. Things change after picking up where mentors and lovers left off while trying to heal whatever twisted up inside his otherwise empty chest.  

_“They wouldn’t because they aren’t shit, Mo-Morty. School is- i-i-i-is for stupid people. They don’t have brUUGHains, Morty, just little microchips that hold information in until it needs to be spit out. But now you know something that they’ll never know.”_  

Of course, he did come back. Three years later, calling from a lone asteroid where he could get a payphone for intergalactic calls; promptly passing out on the floor of a remodeled spaceship owned by the only person he had bothered to call from a planet under new management. Everyone else he could have turned to wouldn’t want to be picking up an ex-con, or he just didn’t remember any other numbers in that moment - Morty wasn’t keen on asking the specifics anyway. All that mattered is that he had called him.  

“You let your hair grow out.”  

The silence was broken, and a shaking hand reached up to cup the back of his head, fingering at the ringlets at the base of his skull that stretched out to the exposed nape. It sent a shiver down Morty’s spine, and he was embarrassed to admit that even after three years he still found ways to surprise him with the tenderness that hardly broke the calloused surface. He didn’t turn his head, but he allowed the touches, which stayed light and innocent, moving from the back of his head to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, the protruding bone of his shoulder, mapping new territory that hadn’t been discovered before he had left. Morty had filled out considerably, staying thin as muscles roped under his gangly limbs through repairing and lifting and running faster than those who wanted to catch him. Every move he made gave him an edge, he had become known as the Morty to thrive after the loss of his Rick, the Morty that everyone was looking for. He grew stronger and faster and lost most of his outward emotions to sleepless nights that were interrupted by nightmares that left his skin icy to the touch.  

_“I can finally feel like you do all the time then, huh R-Rick?”_  

Rick had changed too, locked in prison while under constant surveillance, getting his brain picked and his patience tested. He didn’t look any older, not like Morty did. Their eyes found each other’s after a long moment, and there was no reason to look away, Rick’s hand still warm and grounding on his shoulder. After three years of forced detox, Rick’s eyes were brighter, bluer than Morty had ever seen them. It almost hurt to look at him, to know that in his sobriety he could probably see everything on Morty’s face and know what he was thinking. He had always been good at it when he was intoxicated, adding in scattered words and lingering touches that never felt completely steady, and now Morty was nervous to know if Rick was right when he said that a Morty’s eyes were like stained glass - hard to see clearly, but a window is a window. Rick broke first to the sound of the autopilot confirming destination time, his eyes looking anywhere else but into Morty’s own while the green light flashed over his features. Morty cleared his throat, trying to get him to look at him again, to find something familiar.  

“I couldn’t reach the back. I didn’t want to- to mess it up.”  

“That’s a- you don’t have the face for a mullet, Mor-Morty.”  

“Usually I-I-I’m not thinking about how my face looks, Rick.”  

Rick’s eyes flashed with an emotion that Morty couldn’t pick out before the hand was gone from his shoulder, leaving Morty wondering how that statement must have sounded to the other man. Rick still had some height over him, and for some reason that realization made his fingers feel cold, like he dipped them in ice water. Morty was trying to decide what to do with that bit of information when he felt Rick’s forehead fall onto his shoulder, still warm from the bit of contact just moments before. Morty froze, it had been so long since he’d been able to hold the older man, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. Rick made the decision for him of course, moving his body closer so the front of their bodies were brushing at every point until he was gripping Morty’s face and pulling him in for a breath-stealing kiss.  

Morty made an abortive sound before he was slipping his hands into Rick’s hair, tugging at the blue strands and closing his eyes, melting against the familiar lips and finding himself moving, pushing and pulling until Rick was underneath him on the back seats of the ship. It wasn’t until after they were breathing heavily with bruises blooming from unyielding hands and mouths that they noticed the tears. They weren’t sure who started first, and they weren’t sure where they continued to spill from, but soon enough it was indistinguishable as to which body belonged to which voice and which cheek was being wiped free of the offending liquid.  

They ended up watching the sea of the long gone Milky Way ebb and flow around its black hole while huddled under the stained sheet, her event horizon’s spin creating a sort of hypnotic focal point to their whispered apologies.  

_“You don’t ever want to feel what I feel, M-Mo-Morty. I-I-It’s not- Just foUURGHforget it.”_

_“O-Oh. Okay, Rick.”_  

The autopilot’s green light continued to blink.

**Author's Note:**

> this was not beta'd and it's 1 am and this started as a drabble and im in hell  
> chat with me on tumblr?? @ brokenhairties


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